Fair Damage
by storyfyingmaj
Summary: The numbers just keep coming.
1. Chapter 1: Not So Ordinary Part 1

**Chapter 1: Not So Ordinary Part 1**

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**Monday, April 9, 2012  
****New York, New York 4:06 pm EDT**

It was only by chance that V saw him the first time and only because she thought to look for him that she knew that she was being followed. It had become a habit, being paranoid that is. She was always alert, her eyes taking in as much as they could behind her reflective aviators, and remembering a face she had seen once passing by her in the street - particularly one as well-etched as this one - was easy enough.

She browsed through the racks of clothing, keeping her head down but directing her eyes, still hidden behind her sunglasses, through the store's large windows at the man who half-hid behind the bus stop situated across the street. He looked to be in his early-forties, his dark hair graying in parts but giving him a sophisticated, rather than elderly, air. She approximated that he was a little taller than six feet, the light pole next to him serving as a reference point, and noticed that he had broad shoulders and muscular limbs. He had very structured features, thin lips set beneath a well-formed nose with a firm brow that intensified his powerful stare, and she had no qualms admitting that he was quite handsome. However, what struck her was the hardness that she found set in his skin, how cold and distant he seemed to the people surrounding him. Though he offered a small, quiet smile to the few people that met his gaze as they passed him on the pavement, there was a distinct detachment in his actions. She became even more wary of the man. In her work, she had met her share of professional killers, both those of military standing and those not. She knew that this man was one such person and, considering that this man had been following her, she became worried.

She grabbed a jacket off of the rack and walked towards the floor-length mirrors situated in the middle, opposite the storefront. She slipped it on, pushing her aviators to the top of her head, as she modeled it. Though she postured and zipped and unzipped the jacket, she kept her eyes fixed upon the man reflected in the corner of the mirror. One of the salesclerks approached her with a broad smile, "Finding everything you need?"

V glanced in the young woman's direction, offering a small smile and a nod, "I think so - I'm really liking this jacket." She ran her hands down the waistline, feeling the cool, black leather, as she looked back into the mirror. She spared herself a moment to be pleased with her random selection - it was just to her liking. She unzipped it and took it off, folding it neatly over an arm as she looked towards the man's reflection again. She saw him approach the curb, scanning the area, as if he meant to cross the street. She quickly turned to the salesclerk with an agreeable grin, "I think I'll buy it."

"That's great!" the blonde replied exuberantly, leading the way to the counter. V tossed a glance over her shoulder as she moved towards the back of the store, approaching the register and placing the jacket on the countertop. The salesclerk quickly rang up her item and V took a moment to glance over her shoulder again - the man was in the street. She turned her gaze back to the woman behind the counter who offered her an ever enthusiastic grin, "Your total is $139.20." V handed a credit card to the woman, who expertly ran it through and pushed the printed receipt and a pen towards her.

"I'm sorry," V began, signing off on the receipt as she glanced up at the other woman, "But I'm in a bit of a situation."

"I'm sorry?" the woman blinked.

V pushed the signed receipt towards the salesclerk as she pocketed her proferred credit card. She smiled apologetically, "Do you see the man approaching the store?"

The blonde looked towards the storefront before raising a brow at her, "The one rocking the George Clooney look?"

She gave a light laugh, "I guess the suit and the hair kind of convey that." She continued more seriously, "Is he in the store yet?"

The woman tossed the customer's copy of the receipt into the bag before handing it to her. She shook her head, "Not yet - his hand's on the door but he's checking something on his phone."

V took the plastic bag, slipping her hand through the handles, "I'm really, really sorry about this but do you happen to have an exit in the back?"

The salesclerk looked at her curiously, "We have an employees only entrance in the back that leads out to the alley."

"Could I slip out through that?" she winced, glancing over her shoulder to see the man maneuvering through the many racks and displays. She snapped her gaze back on the woman, "I'd _really_ appreciate it."

The blonde woman glanced at her fellow salesclerk knowingly before turning back to her with a sympathetic look, "Ex?"

V nodded rapidly, taking the opportunity given to her, "A bit more complicated but yes."

"No problem," the woman winked, nodding towards her brunette counterpart who had walked towards the curtain-covered doorway that led to the backrooms. "Debbie will show you the way."

V smiled gratefully, quickly following after the other salesclerk, "Thanks so much!"

Debbie held the curtain back, allowing her to step into the back hallway before dropping the fabric back into place.

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"_Have you made contact yet?_"

Reese glanced down at his phone, placing a hand on the store's door, but there was no way that he was close enough yet, particularly since he had seen her move further back into the store. "Not yet," he replied back, pushing the door open.

"_Am I to understand that you've been following her for the past few hours and you still haven't cloned her phone?_" Finch's bored tone carried a hint of mild surprise.

Reese pursed his lips, moving past the long racks of clothing, "She's very alert."

"_Are you saying that you've been spotted?_"

"No," he replied firmly, squeezing between two tall displays of shoes and approaching the counter in the back.

A blonde salesclerk greeted him with a plastic smile, "Can I help you?"

He noticed that the curtain covering the doorway in the back corner was still swaying back into place - it seemed that he had been wrong about being spotted. He offered a sheepish grin as he tapped his fingers against the countertop, "Hi, I thought I saw an old friend come in here - "

" - pretty Asian lady?" the blonde cut him off icily, never losing her practiced grin.

He raised his brow slightly, giving a nod, "Yes, actually - "

" - she left a few moments ago," the woman said matter-of-factly, raising a brow, "I'm surprised you didn't run into her as you made your way back here."

"Ah," he pressed his lips together politely, nodding. "Thank you."

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Finch sniffed, raising his brow at the security footage from the inside of the store. "It seems you were spotted, Mr. Reese," he commented amusedly. He was quite glad of having picked up this trick, it made keeping an eye on his partner much easier - plus, it was nice not having to sit in anxious silence wondering what was going on as he listened to the chaos that tended to come over the line when he was speaking with Mr. John Reese.

Reese glanced up at the blinking black box in the corner as he turned to walk back towards the door. "Really_, Finch?_" he replied dryly.

Finch ignored the man's sarcasm as he brought up some feeds from the street cameras, "The store only has one back entrance which leads to the side alley. If you hurry, you can still catch up to her." He noticed a female exiting the alley, undoubtedly their POI though she had tied up her long hair and donned a dark jacket. She scanned the crowds, moving towards Reese's direction. Finch was intrigued, "It seems like she's trying to slip away. Woman in black leather jacket, headed your way."

"_I see her._"

Finch watched as their POI strode past Reese who feigned ignorance as she passed but quickly stepped into the flow of pedestrians behind her once she was a distance away. Weaving through the crowd, Reese settled at the corner of the sidewalk a foot behind the woman waiting for the light.

"I believe you are close enough now, Mr. Reese," Finch prompted.

"_And I believe that I'm done._" Reese crossed his arms, flashing an unamused look towards the traffic camera above him. The light turned green and the pedestrians crossed the street with rapid speed - their POI at the head of the herd. Reese turned away, walking back in the direction that he had come.

Finch sat back in his chair, frowning, "Are you not following her?"

"_As you so kindly pointed out, she spotted me_," Reese responded, "_She just sent a text._"

"Yes," Finch remarked, glancing at his copy of the correspondence, "She's headed out to lunch with a friend. Rather late for lunch, isn't it?"

"_I'm heading to her house. I'll pick up her trail tomorrow._"

"Making sure to be more careful, I hope," Finch said wryly.

Reese ignored him, "_I'll call you when I get there._" _Click._


	2. Chapter 2: Not So Ordinary Part 2

**Chapter 2: Not So Ordinary Part 2**

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**Monday, April 9, 2012  
****New York, New York 5:12 pm EDT**

Reese tapped his earpiece, pleasantly answering the call, "Since when were you so impatient, Finch?"

"_You were taking too long,_" the other replied matter-of-factly, briskly jumping in, "_What have you found, Mr. Reese?_"

"She's very organized and has an expensive taste," Reese remarked as he casted his eyes about the classy living room, lingering on the fourth set of white shelves filled with shoes he had run across on the first floor, "And owns an impressive amount of shoes."

"_That's very helpful, Mr. Reese,_" Finch replied dryly.

Reese gave a half-grin, moving into the kitchen, "How about you provide me with a little more from your end, Finch. You just told me to follow her - you didn't even mention if her number came up." He peeked into the cupboard beneath the island before straightening up with a raise of his brow, "Or maybe this is a personal mission?"

Finch remained unpreturbed, ignoring Reese's jibe, "_Victoria Keene, age 32. Her number came up early this morning. I took the liberty of looking into her various records and found nothing out of the ordinary. Criminal and judicial reports are clean, not so much as a parking ticket, and she is financially stable in all aspects - which isn't particularly surprising considering her line of work._"

Reese pawed through the drawer full of old bills, "Which is?"

"_Did you not recognize her face, Mr. Reese?_" Finch asked curiously.

Reese glanced behind him at the photos stuck to the refrigerator, taking in the various shots of Keene smiling with who he supposed were her friends, "Did you?"

"_Of course,_" Finch replied promptly, "_Almost immediately._"

Reese stepped closer to the pictures, taking an even more careful look at the woman's face but still not remembering if he ever saw her face before he started following her, "How?"

"_I read the news, Mr. Reese._" But something in Finch's tone

"Ah," Reese let out, a wry smirk forming on his lips. "The news."

"_And a few other sources of printed material,_" Finch added stiffly, quickly moving on. "_Ms. Keene is a much sought-after escort and has been seen at many high-profile events with different high-ranking officers of the military and government officials as well as celebrities,_" Finch explained. "_Her face is in the papers almost daily - though she's made a considerably fewer number of appearances in the last few months._"

"I assume that she's the legal kind," Reese commented, sifting through the unopened envelopes stuffed between the refrigerator and coffeemaker.

"_She's the professional kind,_" Finch replied delicately, "_Quite legitimate. There was an incident a few years back involving a rather caddish politician and she released a copy of her contract to the press to dispel some rather scandalous rumors. She has a whole section on not catering sexual services and is known for being against the uh... _questionable _escort services._"

"She works alone?" Reese asked as he moved onto the cabinets hanging above the stove. He discovered a dark box sitting next to a plastic container filled with cookies and, after taking it down, found it to be filled with an assortment of objects and papers.

The sound of the mouse clicking drifted over the phone, "_Yes. She was with K Models, a modeling agency, from 2000 to 2002 but retired. She made her first appearance as an independent escort in 2004. No known professional affliates._"

Reese took up the small, blue book that lay beneath a few old convenience store birthday cards. He flipped through it, noticing the many pictures of Keene with a dark-haired male who had not been present among those on the refrigerator, "Do we know anything about her personal life?"

"_Not much is known about her personal history except that she was adopted from South Korea at a young age and raised here in New York City her whole life. Her adoptive parents died about 10 years ago in an apartment fire and left her with a considerable fortune,_" Finch's interest seemed piqued by that bit of information, "_A surprising amount, considering that they ran a flower shop._"

Reese placed the book back into the box, taking up the orange pill container stuffed next to a miniature rabbit. He raised the bottle up, noticing the simple diamond ring placed within, "How about boyfriends? Fiances?"

"_Ms. Keene does not partake in any social networking sites but I ran across a blog dedicated to her and it seems that she was engaged in 2008 to a Daniel Lee Parker who I am looking up at the moment. I don't expect to find much because this blogger lists him as 'a simple businessman' but - _"

" - you'll probably come across his obituary," Reese said with a frown, lifting out the newspaper clipping stuffed beneath the miniature rabbit.

Finch paused a moment before affirming Reese's statement, "_Why yes - I just did._"

Reese gently placed the objects back into the box before returning it to the cabinet and moving on to the cupboards in the corner, "We might want to take a look at Parker's accident report."

"_Did you find something of concern?_"

"Just covering all the angles," Reese replied, raising his brow at the object he found hidden amongst the coffee mugs. Taking the large-caliber pistol in hand, he noticed the polished shine of the metal, "Does Keene have a gun license?"

"_No,_" Finch responded slowly, taking a moment before continuing, "_And there are no records that she ever purchased a firearm. Why?_"

Reese furrowed his brow as he inspected the Desert Eagle in his hands, pursing his lips, "She has an unserialized semi-automatic hidden next to a Hello Kitty coffee cup."

"_Oh,_" Finch cleared his throat, "_Well - _"

Reese set the gun down, pulling out his vibrating phone, "Incoming call from a blocked number."

"_Yes, I see, Mr. Reese,_" Finch replied drolly. "_Your commentary is much appreciated._" Reese's lips twitched with a mildly entertained grin as he raised the phone to his ear.

A crisp female voice came over the line, "_Hello?_"

"_Hello, Victoria,_" a deep male voice answered her.

The two eavesdroppers noticed the light Russian accent tinting the man's words.

She paused for a moment before continuing more quietly, "_You must be back in the States._"

"_As observant as ever, my love,_" he chuckled.

"_I have to ask,_" she said evenly, "_Was that your man following me today? He was quite persistent._"

"_It seems she noticed you early on,_" Finch said with a hint of amusement.

"You know, Finch," Reese commented, "I think you and Keene would get along quite well."

"_It's a survival skill,_" Finch stated cooly. "_Don't take it to heart._"

The man seemed surprised, "_Someone was following you?_"

"_So you have no idea,_" she remarked, "_Now that I think of it - he _was_ considerably more skilled than the fools you usually hire._"

"_That's odd,_" the man mused, ignoring her insult, "_My client works exclusively with me... Just how many people want you dead?_"

"_You tell me, Anton,_" she replied. "_I thought _you_ were the only one who wanted to kill me._"

Reese raised his brow at her statement and her tone of indifference.

"_It seems you're more popular than you'd like to admit,_" he countered dryly.

She snorted lightly, "_Is that all?_"

"_You're considerably calm for someone who's going to be dead in a few days._

"_I must agree with the gentleman on that one,_" Finch commented.

"_I'm sorry,_" she said wryly, "_I'll try to be a bit more hysterical when you're actually standing over me with a gun._"

Anton ignored the condescension reeking from her words, "_I'll see you on Thursday - I know you have a job Wednesday night._"

"_How considerate of you to take my professional integrity into account,_" she replied airily before hanging up.

_Click._

Finch cleared his throat, "_I'm not entirely sure what to make of that rather odd conversation._"

"Same," Reese returned the gun to its hiding spot before striding towards the stairs, "But I think we just found out the danger, Finch."

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**6:11 pm EDT**

Finch glanced up from his work as Reese entered the room. The man slid into the seat before the board, looking up at Finch, "Did you find anything out about our Russian friend?"

Slapping the picture in his hand on to the glass, Finch turned with a finger pointed at it, "Anton Cherevin, also known as Anton Cherkov, otherwise known as Anthony Steeler." He blinked at Reese, gaugeing the man's reaction to the picture, "He's a known contract killer wanted in Europe and Canada."

Anton was a pale-skinned brunette with bright, blue eyes and very keen features who looked to be in his mid-thirties. He looked almost elfish with his smirk and pointed ears that peeked out from dark curls and stared quite unabashedly and arrogantly at the camera. Reese looked towards Finch, folding his fingers over his stomach expectantly.

"I was able to find an association between Ms. Keene and this man when I took a look at Ms. Keene's past clients," Finch limped to the other side of the board, pointing at the picture of a rather rotound, bald man. "Anton used to work security for Alex Ivanov, a Russian diplomat, and met Ms. Keene when Ivanov hired her to be his date for a week of public functions two years ago."

"Ivanov was kicked out of the country two years ago," Reese added, nodding his head at the picture, "He was accused of espionage after a series of incriminating audio files were released to the press."

Finch hobbled to his desk, grabbing another photo to tape to the board. He took a step back, pointing at the latest addition, "Around that time, this man - Rob Jordan - transferred a considerable sum to Ms. Keene's China account. I did some digging and found out that his real name was Robert Henley."

Reese got to his feet, narrowing his gaze at the somber headshot of the balding man, "A former CIA handler."

"Yes," Finch affirmed, glancing up at the taller man, "It seems Ms. Keene was hired at the time by the CIA as an outside asset to help take down both Alex Ivanov, who the CIA had been onto for some time, and Anton Cherevin, who was wanted in North Korea at the time."

"That's rather odd," Reese raised a brow at Finch, "The CIA asking for outside help?"

"It must have been the easiest route, paying Ms. Keene for her cooperation," Finch turned away, taking long strides to his computer, "Ivanov trusted Ms. Keene's professionalism - she came highly recommended by his associates and he had worked with her once in the past. Even after he was deported, he did not suspect her to be the anonymous source of the audio files."

"So he's not the one who hired Anton," Reese stated.

"Ivanov was killed soon after he returned to Russia so he can't be our killer's employer," Finch replied absentmindedly, tapping away on his keyboard.

"So why does this one have a grudge against Keene?" Reese jabbed a finger at the photo of Anton, looking over at Finch, "She made it sound like he personally wanted her dead and that it was just good luck that he had a professional reason to come after her."

Finch shrugged, peering over the top of his display at Reese, "He must have some reasons to suspect that she had a hand in his incarceration." Finch sniffed, returning his gaze to the screen, "Being tortured by the North Koreans for a year might have given him some time to actually think about it."

Reese came around the table to stand behind Finch, "Checking her mail?"

"Yes," Finch glanced up at him for a moment, twitching his nose, before returning to his task, "The usual business."

"I'm assuming you're not finding out much," Reese said, watching as Finch quickly moved through different windows.

"It seems that our Ms. Keene is a very private person, despite her public profile," Finch replied distractedly.

"Like I said," Reese gave a half-grin, "I think you two would get along."

"I think you two will get along better," Finch remarked simply, swiveling in his chair, "Afterall, you're the one who's actually going to meet her."

"You're kicking me out already?" Reese raised his brow.

"I believe that you were the one who said the job was easier if you could make contact with the person," Finch blinked, turning back to his computer. "Plus, since we've identified the danger and we're lacking in information, it's best if we make contact as soon as possible and find out what we can from Ms. Keene herself."

Reese straightened up, turning towards the exit with a stretch of his neck, "I'll get right on it."

"Ah, Mr. Reese," Finch called out, stopping the man in his tracks. Reese pivoted to look inquisitively at Finch who didn't look up, his eyes scanning something on the screen, "Perhaps you should wait until morning, I believe Ms. Keene is having a few old friends over for dinner this evening."

"I guess I could meet with a friend of my own before heading over there," Reese nodded.

"Yes," Finch finally raised his head, a shadow of a smile on his lips, "Wouldn't want you causing them indigestion."

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**11:22 pm EDT**

Reese peered through his binoculars at the large, open windows of Keene's apartment. He watched their POI laugh as she stood at the island in the kitchen, pouring out a few cups of wine. Her guests sat across from her on stools with their backs to the windows, carrying on a conversation that he had lost interest in.

Keene set the bottle down, nodding at the man and the woman with a smile before moving into the next room. He watched as she turned on the light in what appeared to be an office. She stood near the window, a hand resting on her hip and the other placed upon the large mahogany desk. She stayed in that position for a few moments before looking up to the side at the window, as if noticing that the curtains were still open for the first time. She straightened up, moving towards the glass. Her hand rested on the dark fabric as she peered outside at the scenery below.

Reese thought back to the salesclerk's description of "a pretty Asian lady" and realized that Victoria Keene _was_ quite beautiful. He hadn't been able to actually get a look at her until now, having chased after her in the daylight when she had hidden behind her large aviators for most of the time. She had soft features; large brown eyes, a slender, well-formed nose, and alluring lips set in a slim face. There was an exotic air to her looks - her eyes slanted and wide, her lips full and broad; she had a distinct European edge to her otherwise obvious Asian roots. It seemed Keene was a product of mixed blood, though he would have to ask Finch for a more specific description. His eyes wandered down her body; the dark dress she had on accentuated her tall, lean frame, folding to her every curve. She ran a hand through her long, dark-brown waves as she raised her eyes across the street. For a moment, he uneasily felt that she could see him, but that was impossible since he was standing in the shadow of the dark awning. _But those eyes... _She lingered for another moment before sweeping the curtains closed and moving back into the other half of the house. She plumped up a pillow on one of the couches before stepping up into the kitchen again and sliding into one of the stools herself.

He glanced down at his wrist - _11:28 pm - _before eyeing the trio seated around the island. It seemed that a long night awaited Keene - her two friends were quite loquacious.

_Speaking of friends..._ "Hello, Finch," he said pleasantly, tapping his earpiece to answer the call. "Still listening to their idle chatter?"

"_Not really, though I still have them on my speakers at the lowest volume setting._"

"Are they still talking about the Grand Canyon?" Reese pinched his lips together in a droll grin.

"_No, they've moved onto the time they hiked the Applachian Trail,_" Finch replied tiredly, "_I daresay that I feel sorry for Ms. Keene. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson are quite the garrulous pair._"

"At least they're harmless," Reese commented.

"_Yes,_" Finch sniffed, "_What did you learn from our friend Detective Carter?_"

"Not much," Reese frowned, "Daniel Parker's accident report is missing. They noticed it two months ago; apparently a lawyer came around asking for it and they were unable to find it for her."

"_An attorney?_"

"Some story about looking into some old insurance claims that might have been fraudulent," Reese provided.

"_Sounds rather dubious._"

"Very good, Finch," Reese commended his employer, "Calls for some checking into the matter, doesn't it? After all, it's unlikely someone misplacedthe file - we want to know about the other interested parties."

"_Hm, you wouldn't happen to know the date and time of the logged visit?_"

"You'll have to ask Carter yourself," Reese shrugged, moving towards the fire escape.

"_Of course,_" Reese could detect the face Finch was undoubtedly making in that slight pause, "_I'll also look into the others who might have had access to the file._"

"Quite on top of things as usual," Reese commented, lightly rushing down each landing. "Have we been able to locate our tourist?"

"_As far as I've been able to figure, the man is still in California. I don't think he'll be moving until early tomorrow afternoon._"

"That's nice of him to keep his promise," Reese remarked offhandedly.

"_I wouldn't be so sure of that, Mr. Reese,_" Finch said punctiliously, "_Anton may not be in New York yet but I have reasons to believe that he has a team on site._"

Reese glanced down the darkened street as he strode decisively towards his car, "What reasons?"

"_Oh, just a series of bank transfers and some chatter I overheard in Russian._"

Reese gave a light snort, sliding into his vehicle, "I'm assuming you have names and addresses."

"_Of course,_" Finch calmly retorted, "_What do you take me for?_"


	3. Chapter 3: Not So Ordinary Part 3

**Chapter 3: Not So Ordinary Part 3**

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**Tuesday, April 10, 2012  
****New York, New York 4:24 am EDT**

V yawned, rubbing a hand over her face as she stumbled down the stairs towards the open entranceway. She should have slept a few more hours - Renee and Patrick had kept her up until 2 am, talking about everything and nothing over the excessively large bottle of red wine - but she knew that the idea of more sleep was ridiculous. It took her at least an hour to fall asleep no matter how tired she was, then she would always wake up the next morning between 4:30 and 5. She was beyond exhausted but it had been awhile since her body had begun tormenting her so and she had adapted.

It had been that way ever since she had stepped into this life.

A smaller voice called out from that dark corner of her mind, _Dan had - _

_- No. _It was way too early for her to be going down that particular route.

Slapping a hand onto the doorframe, she shuffled into the kitchen as she glanced at the digital clock embedded into the wall above the stove. She heaved a sigh, staring at the green LEDs that shone at her from across the room.

_4:28 am. Jesus._ She let lose another sigh, sweeping her hand against the wall and squinting in the white fluorescence that washed over her.

After a moment, she moved towards the sink, lazily flipping up the faucet handle and wiggling her fingers in the cold water. Sweeping her long hair to one side, she cupped her hands together in the cascade as she leaned her head over the basin. An involuntary shudder swept over her as she slapped the crisp water on her face. She gave a shake of her head, blinking furiously against the droplets that trailed down. A flick of her wrist turned off the faucet and she moved towards her refrigerator, proceeding to the next step of her normal morning routine.

She swung the door open, running her hand over the stainless steel handle as she bent over to peek in. Her eyes automatically snapped to the box of donuts she had stashed in the corner the morning before. She didn't know what it was - probably her fatigue - but she had developed quite a sweet tooth. The liquid sugar frozen over the fried dough was exactly what she craved in the morning. She set the glazed donuts in front of the coffeemaker on the counter, straightening up as she slipped her hand off the handle to grab the milk gallon.

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Reese watched as Keene picked up the pink box with her free hand, swinging towards the island to set both containers on the surface. He raised his brow at the third sigh she heaved since she had entered the kitchen, dragging her feet towards the cabinet in the corner - it seemed Keene wasn't a morning person.

After placing a cup next to the jug of milk, she stretched her arms upwards, working the cricks out of her neck. Then flipping open the lid of the box, she immediately went for the goods inside. Her hand emerged with her fingers sinking into the thick translucent, white glaze that coated the large ring of dough. He raised his brow amusedly at the enormity of the donut and the voraciousness with which she bit into the dessert.

He shifted slightly, causing the wooden panel to creak. He silently admonished himself as he kept his eyes fixed on Keene who made no visible sign that she had noticed, busily pouring milk into the cup with her clean hand. He watched as she leaned forward on her left elbow after taking a sip, inspecting the cheap pastry in that hand. He figured that now was as good a time as any and stepped into the doorway.

She immediately reacted, straightening up with a gun in her right hand - it seemed she hadn't leaned forward for mere comfort's sake. He raised his hands automatically. She looked quite highstrung, highly alert with her eyes flashing dangerously at him. Tossing the donut back into the box, she shook her hand free of the icing that had caked on and clasped both hands over the small black pistol. He noticed that this one had a silencer and wondered exactly how many guns she had hidden.

"Who sent you?" she demanded forcefully.

He raised a brow at her, "Usually the question is, 'Who are you?'"

She quickly scanned his face and recognition bloomed in her eyes, "You're the one that was following me yesterday."

"I'll admit to that," he nodded agreeably.

She pursed her lips, frowning, "Who wants you to kill me?"

He shook his head slowly, venturing a step towards her, "I'm not here to kill you."

"Don't," she gave a firm shake of her head, menacingly waving the firearm.

He straightened up, standing still as he kept his eyes locked on hers. "I won't hurt you," he assured, slowly lowering his hands, "And I won't let Anton - or anyone else - hurt you. Trust me."

Her eyes narrowed just barely, uncertainty tainting her suspicion, "How do you know about Anton?"

"You talk loudly," he replied readily, shrugging.

A flicker of a smile twitched on her lips before she forced the frown back onto her face, "That's awfully flattering."

He gave a slight shake of his head, ruefully adding, "Not cutting it?"

"No," she replied shortly.

"I tapped your phone," he admitted, figuring honesty was the best approach.

She gave a light snort, "And I'm supposed to _trust _you?"

"Considering that you keep an illegally acquired Desert Eagle among your coffee mugs - I think you need to trust _someone_," he countered, nodding in the direction of the cabinet behind her. She dropped her gaze for a second, her attention diverted towards her hiding place.

Reese took that moment to stride towards her, his hand reaching for the gun-wielding arm. She snapped her focus back onto him, her face contorting angrily, and he saw her finger twitching to squeeze the trigger. Coming right at her, he sidestepped the first shot that spat into the wall behind him, his hand slapping onto her wrist to twist the gun out of her grip. She didn't fight him, surprising him by instead releasing the gun in her right hand to spin around and jab her other elbow violently into his side - an action which he was startled to realize actually hurt. She used that momentum to tear away from him, distancing herself from him to lash out speedily with her leg. He just barely dodged the kick aimed at his head as he slipped the safety on the gun before sending it clattering across the island surface to avoid any accidents. Swiftly snapping her long leg back, she rushed at him, taking advantage of his misdirected focus and successfully knocking him onto his back. She managed to graze his chin with a swing of her left arm before he grabbed her wrist with a firm hand, slapping it to the cool steel of the refrigerator. She gritted her teeth, sweeping in her free hand to shove it up against his trachea and focusing a great deal of pressure on it. He snapped his other hand over that wrist, astonished by the amount of strength she fought his hold with. But despite her unusual power, she was a slender female and he still had the greater advantage; while it took him a few moments, he was able to tear her hand from his neck. Lifting his upper body suddenly, he surged forwards and knocked her body off of his - keeping his hands fixed upon her wrists. He slammed her up against the paired doors beneath the sink, trapping her scrabbling legs with his knees. He calmly met her glare, his face a few inches from hers.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Reese said slowly and quietly, mustering a small smile, "So I'd really appreciate it if you didn't try to kill me."

She sat there silently, unblinkingly staring back at him. He saw him gauging his words, sparks of uncertainty dancing in her eyes. He hoped that an amount of sincerity would be conveyed through their eyelock and he was relieved to see her relax ever so slightly. The ire in her eyes slowly died down and, though the wariness was still very apparent in her face, she stopped fighting him. Reese loosened his hold on her wrists, easing backwards to stand up.

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V watched the man get to his feet as she sat up, sliding the strap of her camisole back over her shoulder. She rubbed a hand over the top of her spine that had been thrown up against the wooden doors of the bottom cupboard, wincing as she straightened up - it seemed that her normally problematic spine was not too happy with her morning exercise judging by the audible cracks.

"Here."

She looked up at the man who offered her a hand. She paused a moment before taking it. But while she still didn't trust him, there was something about his strong grip that made her want to - that and his steadfast, blue gaze. She glanced away from his eyes, muttering a thanks as she got to her feet and straightened her shorts.

The man walked around the island, letting her take her spot with her milk and donuts. V heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair as she slid the box and jug away from the edge of the countertop. She peeked into her cup, surprised to see it still in pristine condition, before taking a sip. She peered over the edge of the cup at him, gesturing with her free hand, "You're welcome to sit."

He nodded, sweeping the edges of his jacket back as he slid onto one of the stools, "Thanks."

She placed her cup down, reaching into the box for her half-eaten donut. Taking a bite, she walked around to slide one of the stools to her side. "Would you like some?" she asked politely, plopping into the wooden seat.

"No, thank you," he said with a slight smile, making her feel self-conscious about the overly large dessert in her hand. She cleared her throat slightly, taking a sip of her milk before biting into the glazed dough again.

While she was curious about the man and what he knew, V was glad of the food occupying her mouth - it felt awkward to speak first. Especially since she had gone after him a few moments earlier with the serious intent to harm him - she had the decency to feel a bit sheepish. She watched him pick up the Walther P99 she had drawn on him earlier. He looked up, raising a well-carved brow, "How many more have you got hidden?"

She swallowed the last bite before offering a shrug, "A few, hidden around the house."

"Do you normally have need for them?" he asked curiously, sliding the gun towards her.

She picked it up, hitting the side switch and sliding it into the drawer that popped open, "Not normally." She glanced towards the pink box, contemplating on taking another donut but decided against it. She shut the box, getting to her feet to toss it into the refrigerator, "A girl living - and working - alone; it seemed like the right idea."

She turned to find him staring at her quite intensely. Raising a brow, she spoke stiffly, "What?"

"I'm just curious," he said glancing towards the window over the sink, "How did you spot me?"

She relaxed considerably, returning to her seat. "'How' or 'when?'" she said with a faint smile.

"Okay," he matched her gesture, a half-grin forming on his thin lips, "When?"

She stared off for a second, thinking back to the events of the previous day, "I think I saw your face for the first time on my way to the cleaners."

He showed mild surprise, "That early?"

"Well," she smiled more broadly, "In your defense, I didn't know you were following me at that point. That was just the first time I remember seeing your face." She embarrassedly admitted, "I'm a bit paranoid and tend to keep an eye on the people around me."

"Only the paranoid survive," he said cryptically.

She raised a brow, grinning, "Precisely. I like to think my paranoia is something of a positive trait."

"So why'd you run?" he asked, "You must have thought I was a threat for some reason."

"You looked like a professional," she shrugged, "Your stance, the way you move - it's obviously a result of time in some shady government ops group."

He raised a brow.

She cleared her throat, sheepishly offering, "My clientele - they're quite... varied."

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"'Clientele?'" Reese repeated, probing.

She ignored him and continued on, giving him a careful look, "You look like a John."

"Really?" he smiled, unperturbedly moving into her flow of conversation.

"Yeah," Keene pushed her hair behind an ear, cocking her head to the side as she continued bluntly, "A confused one, but a John."

He was genuinely amused now, "'A confused one?'"

She shrugged, explaining, "You're comfortable with the name but I doubt it's your real one, mister...?"

"Reese," he filled in, a full-fledged grin playing across his face, "You're right, I am 'a John.'"

"See," she said with satisfaction, shaking a slender finger at him. "I'm quite good at noticing things," she said with a bright grin, losing the all-pervading wariness for a moment. She looked much younger when she smiled genuinely, her eyes disappearing into half-crescents and her cheeks dimpling.

He let out a light chuckle, leaning forward as he asked, "What else?"

"You're not with the authorities," she started, scratching her cheek, then added playfully, "Judging from the way you so shamelessly broke in."

"So what am I?" he quizzed, matching her playful tone. He found himself warming up to her considerably, both intrigued and amused by her odd character.

She blinked thoughtfully, tapping her chin, "Former covert operative - most likely CIA - but judging from the way you fought, you were a soldier - probably special ops. War to clandestine operations - though I wouldn't be surprised if you did a lot more things before, and after, that." She gestured a hand lazily at the lower flap of his jacket, "I also know you're hiding a gun - felt like a SIG Saur - and that you're wearing a transmitter of some kind." She tapped her right ear, her eyes flicking to his, before leaning forward herself, "But those kinds of things don't interest me as much as the other things."

He noticed how her eyes flicked over him, making him feel quite self-conscious and - surprisingly - unnerved. Her tone and attitude had changed considerably; in those few seconds, she had slipped into a different persona and somehow he knew that this was the mysterious and enticing Victoria her clients saw. He was fascinated, interested to know what she knew - what she claimed to know - but kept his tone even, his face plain. "What other things?" he asked with his constant, small smile.

A slight distance set into her irises and she seemed as if she were about to say something. But that lasted only for a moment and the focus returned to her eyes almost immediately. She seemed to be even more guarded than before, the blatant uneasiness and wariness returning to her gaze. Keene gave a slight shake of her head, before offering a tight smile, "It's nothing - I'm only teasing."

He watched her curiously as she pushed herself to her feet, picking up her cup and swinging towards the sink.

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"So why are you here?" V asked purposefully, gently setting the porcelain mug into the sink and filling it with water. She tossed a glance over her shoulder as she swept towards her refrigerator.

Reese gave a shrug as he clasped his hands, seeming to take the hint and matching her attitude with a very business-like tone, "I already told you - I'm here to protect you."

She wrested the appliance open, grabbing a bottle of juice off of the shelf. She clutched the neck tightly between her hands as she turned around to meet his gaze, returning to her seat.

V felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny but kept her tone bland, raising a brow as she untwisted the cap and took a sip, "Yes, but _why._"

He merely offered an enigmatic smile, "I think it's more important to figure out who might be after you."

She paused a moment before meeting his gesture, offhandedly agreeing, "Yes - I suppose so."

V eyed the man as he leaned forward and clapped his gaze fixedly upon her - let them both be secretive, it was better that they stuck to the important matters anyway.

Plus, it wasn't the first time she had dealt with shady characters and this John Reese didn't seem so bad - just a bit complex. Though, she had to admit, that it was probably not a good thing that she so casually got along with them when she fell into the company of such people...

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Reese started up again, "I can protect you from Anton but if someone was willing to hire him to kill you, then they'll be more than willing to hire someone else to finish the job."

"Of course," Keene nodded slowly.

"Do you know of anyone who might have something against you?"

She paused, staring off to the side with her brow furrowing. She slowly shook her head, returning her gaze back to his face, "No - not that I know of. Well," She blinked, shrugging her shoulders wryly, "Except Anton."

"Not even Ivanov?" he asked, carefully scanning her face.

Her eyes narrowed at him for a moment, a hardness glinting off of her eyes, but relaxed right away. She shook her head, "Not even him."

Reese pursed his lips a moment before delving into another touchy subject, "What about your late fiancé?"

"What about Dan?" she countered defensively.

"Did he have any enemies?"

"He died four years ago, Mr. Reese," she said confusedly, "Why would - "

" - his obituary said that he died in a car accident," he cut her off apologetically, "When I went to look for the accident report, it wasn't there and the accounts keeper said that it was missing." He fixed her with a questioning gaze, "That alone is enough to raise some suspicion - why would the report of a simple traffic accident be misplaced?"

"Like you said," she shook her head, "It was a 'simple traffic accident.' I suppose that the paperwork wasn't important enough to keep a closer eye on it."

"Then why did you ask to see the report two months ago?" he said suddenly.

She visibly froze, slowly pressing her lips together as she uneasily met his gaze, "What...?"

"This is you, isn't it?" he pulled out a small square from his inner pocket, sliding the grainy, black-and-white video still to her.

Finch had been able to track down the security camera footage of the logged time for the visit to the records from two months ago. Inspection of the footage revealed a tall woman dressed in business attire and her hair swept up in a firm updo who had the grace to glance over her shoulder and give the camera a better angle of her face. They had been able to visually confirm that the "lawyer" who had asked to see the report was Victoria Keene.

Keene placed a hand on it, pulling the photo close. She hesitated a moment before looking back up. "Yes," she admitted, "This is me."

"Like you said yourself, he died four years ago," Reese straightened up, "Why would you want to look at the report now?"


	4. Chapter 4: Not So Ordinary Part 4

Now that I've gotten my life sorted (somewhat), I'll be able to update (finally). I'll be trying to keep to an "update schedule." _Fair Damage_ is slated for updates on Mondays. (The rest of my update schedule is on my profile page.)

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**Chapter 4: Not So Ordinary Part 4**

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**Tuesday, May 20, 2008  
****New York, New York 2:14 pm EDT**

V glanced down at her phone, frowning ever so slightly.

It wasn't like Dan to be late.

She took a deep breath, peering down the bustling sidewalk before squinting up at the sun. Blinking, she gave a little shake of her head to dismiss her worried thoughts. He had most likely just gotten caught up at work - she knew how he could be. A small smile played across her lips as she thought of the furious look of concentration he would give his computer as he crunched some numbers.

"Victoria!"

She whirled around, a broad smile of relief stretching across her face. Dan offered a sheepish grin as he jogged up to her. She crossed her arms, playfully narrowing her eyes, "And _where_ have you been?"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he blustered, sweeping in to kiss her on the cheek. "I forgot to take care of some things."

She raised a brow, curiously meeting his electric blue eyes, "What things?"

Dan merely took her arm, hooking it through his, as he ushered her down the sidewalk. "So," he shot her a mischievous grin, "Where did you want to go to eat?"

V pursed her lips for a minute, stopping in her tracks and questioningly eyeing her boyfriend, "Keeping secrets?"

He countered amusedly, "Must you always be so suspicious?"

"What's wrong with wanting to know?" she replied defensively, assertively adding, "You're never late for our lunch meetings - early or on-time, but _never_ late - so I have a right to know."

"Always so _demanding_," he heaved an exaggerated sigh, swinging around to stand in front of her. His hand slid down her arm, grabbing ahold of her hand firmly, as he fixed her with a serious look, "Fine. If you really _must_ know - "

" - you've done something bad, haven't you?" V pursed her lips warily, looking up at him with a tilt of her head.

His gravity crumpled in a second, the amusement spreading across his face. He shook his head slightly with a laugh, "Come on, V - give a guy a chance!"

"Well, if you're not in trouble, why are you being so dodgy then?" she demanded, shaking her hands free of his to cross her arms across her chest.

Dan gave a shrug as he glanced around at the many pedestrians rushing down the sidewalk. "I guess, I have no choice then," he sighed. He pointed a finger at her, wagging it, as he playfully remarked, "You can't complain later - it's _your _fault that it's public."

She blinked at him, now completely confused, "That _what_ is - "

V shut up, her eyes widening.

"Looks like I've managed to silence you," he teased.

She stared down at Dan who had dropped to one knee on the pavement before her. She blinked furiously, pursing her lips in fluster. She cast her eyes around anxiously, meeting the curious glances of the people nearby. Quickly dropping her arms to her sides, she returned her gaze to her boyfriend who was giving her quite the satisfied grin. She winced, hissing, "Please get up, Dan - _please. _You're making a scene."

Dan gave a shake of his head, reaching into his inner pocket with the silly grin still upon his lips, "You forced my hand, woman."

She bit her lip, slightly flushing, as she continued to glance around at the bystanders who had gathered. "You're being so unfair," she muttered unhappily.

"I'm hoping this makes things a bit better," he said fondly, holding up a silver ring between two fingers.

She focused completely on him then, her eyes fixed upon the small object. "Oh my god," she stammered, her look of consternation relaxing completely. She gave a disbelieving laugh, raising a hand to her lips, "I can't _believe _you."

"What," he said with a raise of his brow, "The diamond too small?"

"_No!_" she admonished embarrassedly, fanning her rapidly reddening cheeks.

"Oh," he gave a shrug, playfully beaming, "You thought I got on my knees _just_ to embarrass you?"

"Actually - _yes_," she replied with a furious nod.

He chuckled, smoothly getting to his feet. He swept up her hand in his, lifting it to his lips, "So?"

She straightened up, managing to salvage some amount of dignity, and gave a sassy roll of her eyes. "'So?'" she repeated mischievously.

"You're _really_ making me work for this, aren't you?" he threw his head back with a laugh.

"Come on," she teased, stepping away from him and crossing her arms again. "I want to hear it."

Dan cleared his throat, getting his first look of the grinning bystanders. He lifted his chin slightly, raising his voice with a broad smile, as he met her eyes again with widespread arms, "Will you marry me?"

She just looked at him impishly, a mirthful smile spreading across her lips, as she held out her hand.

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**Tuesday, April 10, 2012  
****New York, New York 5:08 am EDT**

After a long pause, V opened her mouth, unsure of what she actually meant to say.

She wasn't ready for this.

_Well..._ She eyed the good-looking man sitting across her kitchen island, feeling slightly unstrung by his steadfast gaze. _It's not like I was ready for these particular developments..._

"You're going to have to be honest with me," Reese said quietly but firmly.

V bit her lip, a heavy sigh escaping as she swept her hair to the side with a hand. Her eyes continuously scanned the man's face and form, judging his integrity in his posture and the twitches of his muscles. She knew that she would never fully trust him, and he didn't give her any reason to change that conclusion, but for this particular instance, she figured baring the immediate facts would be the best method. At any rate, he wasn't there to kill her and it seemed that was all the "integrity" she needed at the moment since someone was gunning for her.

She could use him - work with him to get her past this obstacle.

She would figure out the rest later.

V set the juice bottle on the countertop, jerking her head in the direction of the doorway, "Follow me."

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Reese got to his feet easily, following the woman who quickly strode across the middle hallway to lead him to the office room with the imposing mahogany desk. Keene immediately went around the piece of furniture, sliding into the tall swivel chair to jerk open one of the drawers. He waited patiently as she gently lifted out a black laptop, setting it on the surface and powering it on.

He furrowed his brow slightly as she turned the screen towards him.

The display showed a series of dark boxes with white text. It looked like a primitive program with different windows showing various amounts of bared code scrolling and processing.

"Before you ask," she said, causing him to raise his eyes. "I have no idea what it is."

He slid into the cushioned seat across from her, "How does this relate?"

She clasped her hands over her stomach, leaning back into the tall chair. "About two months ago," she began carefully, "I went into Dan's laptop, looking for some old photos..."

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**Tuesday, January 24, 2012  
****New York, New York 8:24 pm EDT**

V let out a small smile as she scrolled through the folder, the tiny icons showing her the many shots of her and Dan on their trip to Niagara Falls a few years back. The barest sigh slipped past her lips as she quickly selected the pictures she wanted and copied it to her USB. A loading window popped up and she deftly exited out of the folder to be met by the familiar desktop background of the New York City skyline.

She waited a few seconds for the box to disappear before gently tugging her thumb drive out of the port. As she moved her cursor to shut down the laptop, her eye caught on a lit icon in the corner of the screen - a blue square highlighted in green, jumping up and down.

She squinted at it, trying to associate the icon to a program - none came to mind.

_What...?_ Her curiosity piqued, V gave a microscopic shrug and double-clicked on it.

The screen immediately turned black.

_Uh-oh_, she frowned, her brow furrowing. _What did I do...?_

The next moment the dark screen was filled with different windows with scrolling white text: binary, French, Japanese, html, English - some she couldn't recognize or comprehend. She blinked confusedly as she tried to make some sense of what she was seeing but was distracted by a new box that popped up.

This one was quite obvious.

_Helios Who is this?_

It looked rather archaic but it was most definitely a chat program. V eyed the entry sent to her, _"Helios?"_ She gave a slight snort as she quickly typed in a response.

_Hyperion Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?_

An amused smile played across her lips as she saw her own ID, _"Helios" and "Hyperion" - what in the world is this, Dan?_

_Helios is typing..._

Her merriment was gone the next second.

_Helios You must be Victoria._

She sat forward in her chair, slightly shaken by the response.

A hint of anger licked at her insides as she quickly responded - she hated being caught off-guard.

_Hyperion What is this?_

_Hyperion Who are you?_

She leaned an elbow upon the desk, apprehensively nibbling on her thumb.

_Helios I worked with your fiancé__._

_Helios Well, technically, he worked for me._

V thought back to the one time she had met her Dan's boss, a short, pudgy man by the name of Nicholas Garrison.

Something told her that this "Helios" was _not_ that man.

_Hyperion So you're in corporate banking._

She hesitated slightly before entering the next three words.

_Hyperion Or something else?_

_Helios is typing..._

_Helios Or something else._

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**Tuesday, April 10, 2012  
****New York, New York 5:14 am EDT**

"We only talked for a few minutes," Keene shrugged, sitting up with a sigh, "But he said a few things that made me want to look into Dan's death."

"Did he suggest that it wasn't an accident?" Reese leaned forward, watching her intensely.

She easily met his gaze, shaking her head, "He didn't say anything specific but he made me suspicious."

"If there _was_ something going on and you looked into it, he might be after you because you found something out," Reese suggested probingly.

She gave another shake of her head, "The report was gone – I didn't have anywhere to start."

"Then - "

" - but he was very interested to know that I still had Dan's laptop," she voiced, crossing her arms, "He might have thought that I might have access to other things - sensitive things concerning this 'Helios' - 'Hyperion - cloak-and-dagger - whatever - nonsense."

Reese raised a brow, "And do you?"

Keene gave a slight laugh as she got to her feet, "My Dan was a corporate banker who never brought his work home if he could help it."

"I'm sorry," he replied automatically, sensing that he had crossed some line.

She waved him off, her own tone slightly apologetic, "You're right to ask - I apologize if I sounded too sharp."

Reese rose from his seat, gently closing the lid of the laptop. His hand rested on the dark plastic, "Do you mind if I take this with me?"

"No," she replied right away, "Not at all." She then raised her brow curiously, an inquisitive gleam entering her tired eyes, "Do you know someone who might be able to find out who 'Helios' is?"

"I'm not sure," Reese answered honestly, "But I'm sure he could learn a few things."

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**9:02 am EDT**

Reese peered over Finch's shoulder at the complexity that had taken root within both Finch's set of monitors and Keene's laptop. After a moment of staring, he made his decision.

He didn't even want to know.

He opted for a safe conversation starter, leaning back in his chair, "Having any luck?"

Finch didn't look up, his ever blank expression fixed upon his face. "Not at the moment," he replied, matter-of-fact.

Reese raised an eyebrow, "Shouldn't you be a bit more concerned then?"

The bespectacled man graced him with a condescending look, sounding a bit offended, "I said 'not at the moment'. It's just a matter of time, Mr. Reese."

"Ah," Reese let out, pursing his lips into a small smile of amusement, as Finch turned back to the computers.

"Ms. Keene was quite talkative with you this morning," Finch commented, his eyes still scanning the screens.

Reese gave a shrug, pushing himself to his feet to walk to the glass board, "She doesn't trust me."

Finch raised a brow, glancing up at him, "Pardon?"

"She doesn't trust me," Reese repeated, his eyes skimming over the new documents that had been taped on.

"Yes, she didn't sound so confiding," Finch said thoughtfully.

Reese offered a jerk of his shoulders, replying plainly, "She's just using me because she knows I can better her chances of survival."

"Paranoid and calculating," Finch filled in, eyeing the photo of Victoria Keene on the board, "Our number is turning out to be quite an interesting character."

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**Friday, June 13, 2008  
****New York, New York, 11:45 pm EDT**

V drummed her fingers against the table surface as she played with the blue pen in her hand. She had been writing a grocery list for tomorrow but was currently at her wits end, trying to remember the one thing she had sworn to get earlier this week but had forgotten about.

She exhaled deeply and wrinkled her nose with a frown. She went down the list at hand, trying to think, _I have the muffins... the bread... chocolate... mushrooms... butter... linguine... tomatoes... olive oil... _

She gave an exasperated sigh as she grabbed her vibrating phone. She gave the list one more glare before eyeing the number that lit up her screen - she didn't recognize it.

"Hello, this is Victoria," she answered briskly.

"_V, it's me._"

She furrowed her brow, "Dan?" She set down her pen as she glanced at the number again, "What happened to your phone?"

His tone was harried and there was a considerable amount of strain in his voice, "_That's not important - I - _" He cut off suddenly.

"Dan?" she called anxiously, a worry setting into her. "Dan, what's going on? Are you alright?"

"_Victoria,_" he said distractedly, a firm edge to his words, "_I have to tell you something_."

She nodded, rapidly responding, "What is it?"

He paused a moment, rushing into his next words, "_I love you very much, you know that right?_"

"Dan, what's going on? Why are you being so – ?"

" – _I'm so sorry, V - I haven't - _shit_ - !_"

He was overcome by static -

"Dan? Dan!"

Then there was silence.

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**Tuesday, April 10, 2012  
****New York, New York 10:28 am EDT**

The linoleum tiles clung to her skin as she sat cross-legged upon her kitchen floor with the black box in her lap. The various cards and photos and other pieces of memorabilia lay around her and she gave a little sigh as she glanced at each object again.

It had been a while since she had opened this box.

_Almost 4 years..._

She hadn't even gone to it when this whole business began but...

V looked down at the ring cupped in her hands, a wistful smile upon her lips, "It seems you were hiding just as many secrets, love."

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**Saturday, June 14, 2008  
****New York, New York 12:33 am EDT**

She gritted her teeth against the burning in her throat. She hardly dared to breath, hardly dared to blink - the wetness trembling within her eyes.

The man offered his quiet apology again before turning to stride down the sterile, white hall.

Her hands gravitated towards her face, hovering above her shuddering lips. She wouldn't cry - she couldn't. The tears would just prove what she was so desperately trying to deny.

_No. Not this. Please not this._

"Victoria," Lisa called to her in a voice so heartbreakingly gentle.

She swung around to meet the familiar ginger-haired woman who reached towards her.

_We would have been family. "Real sisters," Lisa had promised._

Now they were strangers.

_No. Don't think that. Don't._

"Victoria, please," Lisa gently placed her hands upon V's upper arms, her gray eyes so full of sorrow - so full of apology.

V allowed herself to be drawn into Lisa's arms, welcoming the warmth her embrace provided, but she fought the tears even then. "He was just here, Lisa," she whispered in cracking tones, "He was just _here_."

_I was just talking to him - his voice - _

Lisa pressed her lips to V's hair, murmuring, "Just let go, Victoria." Her fingers stroked soothingly as a sadness of her own thickened her strong tones, "He's gone."

_"He's gone."_

V shut her eyes - condemning the hot burn upon her cheeks.

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**Tuesday, April 10, 2012  
****New York, New York 2:01 pm EDT**

Reese gave a grunt as he reached over the struggling body and tapped his earpiece to answer his phone.

"I'm a little - "

Kneeing the portly man in his grasp, he then slammed the body to the ground.

" - busy - "

He jammed his palm upwards against the chin of the ratty looking one in front of him, encircling his arm around the Russian's neck, as he ducked the fist swung at his head by another goon.

" - at the moment - "

The two who had ducked out of the room returned, holding a pair of pistols each and open fired.

" - Finch - !"

Reese used the man in hand as a body shield as he skirted to the side, throwing himself behind a mangy couch.

"_Er,_ _call me back._"

"I'll do that," Reese muttered, pulling out his own weapon.

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**2:50 pm EDT**

Finch turned in his chair as he heard the scuff of polished shoes upon the creaky floorboards. He greeted the rumpled Reese with a raise of his brow, "I'm assuming you had an enjoyable time with our friends?"

The tall man gave a dry chuckle as he approached his employer, tossing his jacket to the side, "I'm assuming you had some luck finding out about Mr. Helios?"

"Yes, actually," Finch responded readily, hopping to his feet and making his way around the table to the glass board.

"Oh?" Reese settled into one of the other seats, arching a brow.

Finch lightly tapped a piece of paper with two words written on to it. "'The Commander,'" he read plainly.

"'The Commander,'" Reese repeated curiously.

"Yes," Finch sniffed, dropping his arm to his side and turning his body towards his partner. "'The Commander.' In 2008, a small-time New York City reporter came out with some ludicrous claims about a government sanctioned black ops group that was headed by a man only known as 'The Commander.' It seems that 'Helios' is this man."

Reese raised a brow, "How do you figure?"

"The laptop," Finch replied simply, providing no further explanation, "In addition, this reporter, David Michelson, mentioned in his article a series of codenames used by the known members of this particular black ops group – they had a taste for Greek gods."

Reese eyed the other bits of paperwork, "Can you be a bit more specific than just 'black ops group?'"

"Unfortunately," the shorter man sniffed, "The reporter was involved in a car accident shortly after the first article was published and no more information was released."

"Then," Reese shifted in his chair, "What's 'The Commander's' relationship to Keene's fiancé?"

Finch offered a nonchalant shrug, spreading his hands before him, "No idea."

Reese leaned forward and clasped his hands, an amused smirk upon his thin lips, "Oh?"

The bespectacled man coughed politely, raising his brow meaningfully, "David Michelson so conveniently, and rather foolishly, kept_ digital_ records of his notes. It seems Ms. Keene's late fiancé, Mr. Parker, was in contact with Mr. Michelson."

"When was Michelson killed?" Reese pushed himself to his feet, approaching the board to take a closer look at the photo from earlier.

"June 12, 2008," Finch turned to watch the taller man, "A day before Mr. Parker's accident."

Reese met his gaze, "So…?"

"My educated guess would be that Mr. Parker was somehow involved with this organization and, along with Mr. Michelson, was silenced for revealing government secrets," Finch volunteered before returning to his desk. He tapped a few keys, bringing up a series of records and quickly scanning them with his eyes, "However, I have been unable to find anything linking Mr. Parker to a government organization of any sort. If he was indeed involved, I'm afraid that this unnamed black ops group is a bit more serious than any normal 'government-conspiracy-theory-group.'"

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**Tuesday, April 10, 2012  
****Los Angeles, California 12:31 am PDT/3:31 pm EDT**

Anton pursed his lips, biting back the rush of curse words that tickled his tongue. "And you are telling me this now, _why_?" he grated into the tightly gripped phone.

The goon hesitated, "_We weren't expecting - _"

"You idiots," Anton cut him off, slamming a hand down onto his desk, "Just wait at the warehouse. Don't do _anything_ until I get there. Think you can do that?"

"_We - _"

" - you _think_ you can _do_ that?" Anton hissed, swiveling his chair towards the window.

"_Yeah,_" the man answered sulkily, "_We can do that_."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow," Anton spat before snapping his phone shut, _I am _surrounded_ by incompetent fools..._

He wrinkled his nose, scratching his brow, _But then again..._ _Considering that it is _that _woman__..._

He wasn't surprised that she had hired help - neither was he surprised that the "middle-aged stiff" had beaten a great number of the thugs on his own.

_She was always so resourceful_, he gritted his teeth.

No, he wasn't surprised at all - he was just very, _very_ irritated.

_Victoria_ had a way of doing that.

Anton angrily flipped open his phone again, quickly tapping in a number before slapping the device to his ear. He impatiently rapped his fingertips against the polished wood of his desk, waiting out the dial tone.

There was a click then the low drawl of a deep, masculine voice, "_Yes._"

"I'd like to renegotiate."


	5. Chapter 5: Not So Ordinary Part 5

**Chapter 5: Not So Ordinary Part 5**

* * *

**Wednesday, April 11, 2012  
****New York, New York 7:31 am EDT**

The slender woman seemed unperturbed to see him on her couch, striding into the room in her too-short shorts while drinking a large glass of orange juice. Keene raised a brow, grunting a greeting as she continued to chug down gulps of the pulpous liquid.

Reese resisted the urge to smile, shifting slightly into the dark cushions, as he nodded in return.

"_Quite an interesting character__," _Finch had said.

Reese was starting to think that he agreed with his richer half.

Finishing her cup, Keene set it down upon the coffee table before plopping down into the seat opposite him. She crossed her arms, looking over at him with a mildly interested expression. "Good morning," she offered.

"Good morning," he replied pleasantly.

She scratched her cheek, tilting her head to the side, "Is this going to become a habit?"

"What?"

"You," she waved her finger in his direction, "Lurking into my house whenever you feel like."

He chuckled, giving a shrug, "Only when necessary."

"Oh," Keene raised a brow, "So I assume something's happened?"

_His hands clamped tightly on the man's collar, jerking the man's bloody face to meet his. _

"_Leave Ms. Keene alone," he smiled agreeably, giving a lazy shrug, "Do we understand each other?"_

_The slobbering thing in his hand nodded furiously, clapping one hand over his disjointed nose that had begun bleeding afresh. _

Reese offered a pleasant lift of his lips, "Not really."

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**7:36 am EDT**

V noticed the enigmatic turn of his lips – _Already with the secrets... – _but chose to ignore it, giving a shrug and a shake of her rumpled hair before swiftly getting to her feet. She pointedly looked at the clock hanging on the wall before she turned about, exiting the room.

"I guess you'll be tagging along today," she called over her shoulder as she made her way down the hall.

Slight thumps of feet upon the floor followed her. "I'm guessing you have plans," Reese replied gamely.

She paused in the doorway of her bedroom, glancing back at him. He raised a brow, his shoulder leaning into the frame of the doorway. "I'm a busy woman, Mr. Reese," she said affably, "Better keep up."

"Of course."

There was something about those small smiles.

She ducked into her room with a toss of her hair, chuckling to herself, _Something about those _good-natured _smirks…_

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**Wednesday, April 11, 2012  
****Oahu, Hawaii****4****:31 am ****HADT****/10:31 am EDT**

The woman paused before the curtained doorway with her clipboard in hand, pursing her broad lips. She swept her brown curls to one side as she glanced down at the neatly printed itinerary, one hand rapping on the doorframe.

A smooth male baritone answered her, "Yes?"

"The arrangements have been made," she answered, reflexively straightening up. "Do you require anything else, Commander?"

"Call the unit on the ground," he sniffed, "Make sure they're keeping a close eye on the Russian rat."

"Yes, sir."

"And Kerry?"

"Yes?" she responded readily, suddenly a bit anxious.

A slight pause preceded his next words, "Remember what happened to Diana."

She swallowed, thinking of her gorgeous, blonde predecessor, "Of course."

"I expect everything ready when I return."

"Yes, sir."

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**Wednesday, April 11, 2012  
****New York, New York 2:10 pm EDT**

Reese took a sip of coffee, keeping an eye on Keene and her rather flamboyant date sitting at a table not too far from him. He scanned the surrounding area, noting the not so sneaky paparazzi creeping past the bushes that surrounded the restaurant's patio. He nodded in thanks to the pretty waitress who brought him his slice of the lunch special dessert, lemon buttercream cake.

She smiled back sweetly, "Would you like anything else?"

"No," he offered a smile, "Thank you."

The petite blonde gave a nod, maintaining her bright countenance, before she moved away.

"_How's the cake, Mr. Reese?_"

"I was wondering where you were at," he replied, eyeing the piece he had speared with his fork, "Looks rather dry."

"_I should have warned you about the desserts_."

Reese swiftly took a bite, savoring the sweet and sour tang of the buttercream, "It's not half-bad, Finch."

"_I'm happy for you_," the man sniffed.

Reese eyed the security camera atop the lamp post a few feet away, a small smile on his lips, "You seem a bit put out – should I order another piece to go?"

"_That won't be necessary, Mr. Reese,_" Finch said dryly, "_How is Ms. Keene?_"

Reese's eyes wandered back towards the pair, catching sight of Keene letting out a peal of laughter at something the smooth blonde had said, "Enjoying her lunch meeting. It seems that Mr. Hollywood is a charming fellow."

"_Well, her lunch partner _is _one of the most sought after celebrities of the decade_," the observer provided, matter-of-fact.

"Yes," Reese let out a chuckle as he watched an unlucky cameraman get trampled by a more eager counterpart, "He does seem rather popular."

"_Something I didn't really understand,_" Finch replied absentmindedly, trailing off, "_The last few films I saw with him in it were rather awful…_"

Reese rubbed his chin bemusedly, "Did you have something you wanted to tell me, Finch?"

"_Ah, yes – Anton's just arrived at JFK International._"

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**Wednesday, April 11, 2012  
****New York, New York 4:48 pm EDT**

Josif called out to him, "I've got the boys ready, Anton."

The thin Russian merely continued his inspection of the Walther in his hand, aiming it at the far end of the warehouse. Squinting at some fixed point on the metal walls, he let out a single response, "Don't screw up."

"What about the man in the suit?" the good-looking Serb cleared his throat, "What if he shows up again?"

Anton rolled his eyes, exasperatedly turning around to give his right-hand an obvious shrug, "Kill him."

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******Wednesday, April 11, 2012  
****New York, New York **6:33 pm EDT

Finch pushed away from the table, tossing the napkin in his lap onto the table, and got to his feet. Taking his cane in hand, he exaggerated his limp as he made his way through the maze of tables.

"Quite the colorful company," he noted in a murmur.

"_They're statesmen and women with dates,_" Reese replied in a bored tone, "_Keene will be fine _during _the dinner_."

"Yes," Finch smiled politely at a rather formidable man in a suit who stepped away from his post to open the door for him, "A rather amazing number of personal bodyguards making sure of that."

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Finch paused to straighten his jacket as a dark Mercedes pulled up to the curb. He watched with a mild amount of feigned curiosity as a tall, ginger haired man in an ostentatious, navy suit stepped out. The man was a pretty handsome fellow with broad shoulders and a defined chin but there was a certain arrogance to his stature that made him hard to like.

Finch pulled out his kerchief, slightly turning to give a small series of coughs, as the man helped his date out with a firm hand. Keene offered a tight smile, sliding out of the car in her sandy halter dress that showcased her legs and impossibly high heels rather spectacularly. Straightening up, she gave subconscious pat to her upswept hairdo before taking her date's offered arm.

They didn't even glance in his direction, quickly making their way into the restaurant.

"Need a ride?"

Finch raised his head at the gray sedan that had pulled up next to him, tilting his head to meet Reese's outreached grin. He managed a slight roll of his eyes as he speedily stepped up to and slid into the car.

"We can watch from across the street," Reese commented, maneuvering the car around the bend.

"Yes," Finch replied absentmindedly, tinkering with the handheld display.

"Did you manage to get all of the cameras in?"

The bespectacled man merely showed him the screen, displaying 12 different angles.

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**8:49 pm EDT**

"Mr. Turner," V tutted, delicately extricating her wrist from the young politician's hand, "I'm afraid our business is done."

"Don't you have time for fun?" he flashed his perfect teeth in a broad, jaunty grin.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his obvious ploy, offering a polite smile, "Plenty."

Thankfully, he wasn't quite so persistent.

He gave a wide shrug, his jocular smile still apparent, "Oh well, maybe next time."

"Yes," she gave a curt nod, keeping her words equally short, "Maybe next time. Good night, Mr. Turner."

"Good night - "

She didn't waste another moment, turning away to stride around the sidewalk corner.

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**8:52 pm EDT**

Josif scratched his chin, nonchalantly pacing the sidewalk across from the restaurant's back exit with his silent phone pressed to his ear. He eyed the lithe figure marching away from her smarmy dinner appointment in her outrageously tall stilettos, subvocalizing into his comm, "She's headed your way."

"_We see her._"

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**8:52 pm EDT**

V sighed, placing the jacket upon her arm about her shoulders. She moved quickly, one heeled foot carefully placed before the other, _A hot shower and a cup of tea. Yep. That's the plan._

She unsnapped her clutch, pausing slightly to look for her mobile.

It was then that she noticed the bulky bully purposefully striding towards her.

_Hm. _

She turned in one swift motion, skirting to the side of the sidewalk to avoid the tall scarecrow who stepped out of the shadow of the building.

_Okay._

She kept moving, stepping off of the sidewalk onto the asphalt. She pointedly kept her face blank and uninterested even as she noticed the pair of musclemen coming up on her from the side.

V eyed the lamppost on the street corner she had come from, judging the distance and noting the quickening of the steps behind her.

_Not enough time._

She figured the unexpected would be better.

Sweeping her jacket off her shoulders, she turned and hurled it in the face of the closest goon – Mr. Scarecrow. That sent the others launching into motion.

The bully attempted to grab her by the wrist but she sidled away, tearing her clip out of her hair. Stepping behind the scarecrow, she knocked one knee hard into the back of his – causing him to buckle forward – then tightly wrapped a slender arm around his skinny neck – closing the jacket more snugly around his face. Pulling him forcefully to her with a firm tug of her arm, she crushed down upon his trachea as she flicked the covering on her hair ornament in the direction of the two musclemen that jogged towards them.

Though she had tried her best to keep the bully off her back as she fought with the man struggling in her hands, the huge man managed to get behind her – throwing his own arms about her neck. She only held on tighter to the attacker in her hands as the bully tried to drag her off his pal. Fighting against the man's hold, she managed to jab downwards with the uncovered, sharp edge of her hair clip – slicing into the scarecrow's straining neck. Feeling the splash of warm blood upon her hand, she released the thin assailant – kicking off of him to throw the bully off balance – and slipped that arm between her neck and the man's meaty arm.

Snapping an elbow into the abdomen of the bully, she got him to further loosen his hold enough for her to replenish the few seconds of oxygen she had been deprived of. The first muscleman attempted to come at her directly from the front but, holding onto the arm about her neck to maintain her balance, she lashed out with a sharply heeled foot – felling the foolish man with a direct hit to the side of his head. Then turning her attention back to the sweating pig holding her, she shoved backwards with her feet pressed into the asphalt to wriggle her chin into the crevice of the arm.

Then she bit down hard, tearing into his flesh.

The bully gave an indignant scream of pain as he let go of her completely. She dropped to her knees to avoid the second muscleman's grab at her, throwing herself to the side and sweeping her leg out to trip him. Hands crunching into the gravel, she shoved herself up and quickly backing up.

_Shit._

She had miscalculated the distance from the road to the curb and found herself falling hard upon her rump as her heels knocked into the rounded edge of the sidewalk.

Both musclemen had managed to get to their feet and, seeing the opportunity, swarmed towards her with the meaty bully yelling violently in Russian at them.

_Shit._

She needn't have worried.

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**8:56 pm EDT**

Finch flipped on the headlights on full, drawing the attention of the three still-standing assailants. Giving an involuntary yell, he hit down upon the accelerator and sent the car hurtling towards them. The two stocky men threw themselves away from the curb as the gray sedan just barely missed running them over.

Slamming on the brakes, Finch realized that he had his hands wrapped around the wheel with an almost superhuman grip. A quick glance into the rearview mirror made him aware of the shell-shocked tinge to his bespectacled face.

Reese gave him an encouraging pat to his shoulder – no doubt, with an amused, little smile – before he jumped out of the car.

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**8:57 pm EDT**

V self-consciously put a hand to her hair, the bobby pins slipping out from beneath her fingers, as she got to her feet, watching – with an almost morbid amusement – the pummeling of the musclemen by Reese.

Somehow the tall man had managed to execute two, well-placed hits at the goons' stomachs before slipping between the two and coming up behind them to knock their heads against each other with a resounding clunk. The musclemen, already having dealt with blows to the head from her, didn't really have much willpower left – both crumpled to the ground, each with a dazed turning up of their eyes.

Seeing how quickly Reese took care of his teammates, the bully gave an exasperated snarl before he ran in the opposite direction. V watched Reese give the retreating pig a bemused expression before jerking his shoulders in a microscopic shrug.

He turned to her, offering a questioning tilt of his head, "Are you okay?"

"Who told you to butt in?" she retorted brusquely, awkwardly straightening her dress.

Reese chuckled, moving towards her. V cast about for her belongings, seeing her hair clip next to the shallowly breathing scarecrow and her clutch a foot away from Reese. She stepped up to the scarecrow, dipping slightly to snatch up her accessory, as she called out to Reese, "Do you mind getting that?"

The man paused, glancing about before bending over to retrieve the dirtied clutch.

The second's pause saved him from the bullet that quietly spat into the wall.

Throwing her clutch to her, Reese swept out his own gun – immediately fixing his gaze in the direction of the trajectory. V followed his gaze, catching sight of a thin man with dark curls who quickly ducked out of sight. There was a revving of an engine and, after a slam of a door, a sleek, black car raced past the road they were on.

_Shit._

V ran up to Reese, holding out a hand, "Are you alright?"

He took it, pulling up in one solid movement, "Is that concern?"

"Maybe," she sniffed, quickly letting go of his hand and glancing away, "I feel kind of bad that Anton's put a kill-on-sight order on you."

"How do you know?"

"The man who just shot at you is Josif. He's Anton's second-in-command," she looked up at him briefly, "He doesn't shoot to kill unless he's been told to."

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**9:02 pm**

Finch impatiently got out of the driver's seat, stiffly calling out, "Could we please move somewhere safer?"

Keene looked towards him. He noticed the narrowing of her expression and watched as she raised a brow at Reese, "He's with you?"

"So you saw him too?" Reese commented amusedly.

"He was standing at the front of the restaurant earlier," she looked at Finch carefully, "Hard to miss a guy with a cane."

He gave a self-conscious blink.

"I think you hurt his feelings," Reese chuckled, ushering her towards the vehicle, "He was quite proud of his stealth today."

Finch managed a snort, moving to the passenger's side, "How cute, Mr. Reese."


	6. Chapter 6: Not So Ordinary Part 6

**Chapter 6: Not So Ordinary Part 6**

**Wednesday, April 11, 2012**

**New York, New York ****9:32**** pm EDT**

V swept up her hair into the towel, tucking the folds of her makeshift turban before cinching the belt of her robe more tightly. Glancing into the mirror, she peered past the misted glass at her slightly flushed skin.

_Hm. _

She became mindful of the small smirk that was on her lips and forced her face to take on a more neutral expression.

_More than just the hot water… _she noted, the smile returning.

There was no one around – she could let herself enjoy the first bit of good news she'd had in a long time.

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**9:35 pm EDT**

Finch peered over the top of his laptop, blinking at the light laughter that filtered through the door across the hall. It seemed their number was in good spirits. Though, he found it a bit odd for her – or any person, for that matter – to laugh to herself in the bathroom. _Hm. _

The door clicked open and he swiftly returned his gaze to the screen, only raising his head when her footsteps headed in his direction. "Everything satisfactory?" he cleared his throat, eyeing the robe and towel ensemble she was boasting.

"Yes, thank you," Keene remarked, looking around the common room, as she wandered towards the large couch adjacent to the table. "Nice place."

"Thank you," he replied, closing the top of his laptop with a light pat, "It serves its purpose."

She rubbed a finger into the corduroy upholstery, "A safehouse?"

Finch blinked, turning his body in her direction, "Pardon?"

"Well," Keene picked up one of the spinach green cushions by a corner, waving the lumpy object at him, "You don't seem like the kind of guy for these particular types of furnishings."

"How observant of you," he commented, pushing up his glasses with a light finger.

The woman shrugged, tossing the cushion aside to straighten the towel atop her head, "Plus, you're with Reese – maybe his mysterious handler – "

_Not as fascinating as you I'm sure… _

" – so it stands to reason that this wouldn't actually be _your _house," Keene scratched her nose, blinking, "Am I wrong?"

Finch blinked back, "No – not at all."

"So, where is the stoic bloke, anyway?" she glanced over Finch's shoulder as if she expected Reese to jump out of the velvet curtains.

"I'm actually not sure," he replied stiffly, a slightly miffed edge to his words, "He does that."

"Does what?"

Finch arched an eyebrow at the tall man who decisively strode into the room, "You're back already?"

Reese gave a half-grin as he took the seat opposite him, "Disappointed?"

"Nothing of the sort," he sniffed, getting to his feet and tucking his laptop under an arm.

"Where are you going?" Keene asked curiously, pulling the towel off her head and shaking out her lank hair.

"Yes," Reese clasped his hands in front of him on the tabletop, raising his brow, "Where _are _you going?"

Finch glanced between the two eager persons, _Escaping you two_, "Going to bed. I can show you to your room, Ms. Keene – if you like."

"Actually, yeah," the woman swept up the wet towel in one hand as she jumped to her feet, "Bed sounds like a good idea." She maneuvered around the large piece of furniture, stepping into the hallway, in one long stride as she gave a wave of her hand, "Good night, Mr. Reese."

Finch shuffled after her, noting the amused smile on his partner's thin lips. _Hm._

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**10:28**** pm EDT**

Josif shifted, sitting more comfortably upon the edge of the table, as he watched Anton cheerfully rearrange his tools with a content leer. He had expected Anton to be in a foul mood after the botched attempt earlier that evening. _Though… _He supposed killing the men who had failed him had cooled him down a bit.

_It doesn't explain why he's in a _good _mood. _

Josif had always preferred Anton to be moody and irritable – _that _was normal and predictable. Strange moods tended to mean something quite the opposite…

…_which only means headaches for me._

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**11:22 pm EDT**

Reese gave a quick turn of his wrist, silently pushing open the door to Keene's room. He set himself in the doorway, careful to block the hallway light, as he peered into the dim.

Keene had her body turned away from the entrance with her hair splayed over the deep pillow. He noticed the delicate curve of her loose shoulders and how her arm clutched the comforter to her body.

_A completely different woman when relaxed__._

He watched the steady rise and fall of her side for a minute before sweeping the door shut. Turning, he was startled to come face to face with Finch who arched a piercing brow. Reese straightened up nonchalantly, "Hello, Finch."

"Hello," the shorter man replied dryly, shifting the laptop under his arm.

Reese swore that there was a certain sparkle to the man's eye. He stepped away from the door, striding towards the living room, "Can't sleep?"

"There are some things I need to check," Finch returned, following him and setting the computer onto the table.

Reese grabbed his jacket off the back of the sofa, pulling it over his shoulders. He could feel Finch's intense gaze on him as he quickly moved towards the hallway again.

"Where are you going?"

He replied shortly, "Out."

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**Thursday, April 12, 2012**

**New York, New York 12:08 am EDT**

V impatiently tapped her feet, eyeing the line of light at the bottom of her door from her spot on the bed's edge. They had taken too long to check on her and it was already past midnight.

_Damn. _

She was getting antsier by the minute.

_Damn._

She knew Reese had left and found herself uninterested, already accustomed enough to his odd comings and goings.

_But the adorable, little one…_

She listened for the tapping of keys. The spectacled man had been hard at work at his computer for a good part of the last half hour but had gone silent in the last ten minutes.

_No guarantee._

But she was running out of time…

_Oh well._

V got to her feet, slipping into her dress and zipping it up quickly, and moved towards the door. She paused with her hand on the handle, listening.

_Now or never._

She wrested the door open, cringing at the soft squeak of the hinges as she slipped through. Careful to shut the door behind her, she crept down the hall towards the common room.

_Hm. _

She smiled as she heard a slight murmuring series of snores. Peering through the entranceway, she confirmed that the funny man was fast asleep at the table.

_Convenient. _

V quickly ducked into the living room, grabbing her heels and clutch from the coffee table, before she quickly and quietly skipped towards the front door.

She gave a slight chuckle as she slipped on her shoes, twisting the deadbolt free with an outstretched hand.

_It would be just my luck if Reese were at the door._

But he wasn't.


	7. Chapter 7: Not So Ordinary Part 7

**Chapter 7: Not So Ordinary Part 7**

* * *

**Thursday, April 12, 2012  
****New York, New York 12:****11**** am EDT**

V quickly scampered down the stairs, casting a furtive glance down both ends of the sidewalk as she pushed through the gate in front of the house.

It was quite dark for a residential neighborhood.

She gave her purse a reassuring squeeze as she shook off an eerie shudder and quickly strode down the sidewalk. The night air cool upon her bared legs and shoulders, she now wished that she had at least stolen the short man's jacket.

_Hm, _she suddenly thought, _I still don't know his name…_

V chuckled to herself as she brought her free hands to her other arm, chafing some warmth into her skin. Moving from one shadowy lamp to another, she made her way towards the main road but paused as she noticed a tall figure leaning against a bulky Dodge Charger.

"Hm."

"You must be Victoria," the hooded man called out, his slick Jersey accent rolling off his tongue.

She cocked a hip, raising a brow, "And you must be Sven." The man stepped up onto the sidewalk, sweeping his hood off and blowing his hair out of his face. "Didn't realize that Josif took to hiring Americans."

"I must've been some kind of exception," the pleasant-looking blonde replied with a jaunty grin as he swept open the passenger's seat, "Can we get going, beautiful? We're late."

She gave a shrug, striding towards the car. "Not at all, _sweetie_," she fixed him with a sarcastic beam as she slid into the seat.

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**12:****20**** am EDT**

"Who did you say you sent?"

Josif rolled his eyes, lowering his head to scratch his nose, and wearily replied, "Sven." _The guy's name doesn't change the more times you ask me…_

Anton continued to pace with his arms tightly crossed, antsy as ever.

_God, I hate his funny moods._ "They'll be here soon, Anton," he called out reassuringly, glancing at his watch.

"I want them here before _him_," the Russian gave an annoyed twitch of his head, pausing in his steps to shoot Josif a slightly unfocused glance.

_Ah. _"Right – bad form to not have the merchandise on hand," he gave a nod, "I get it."

"_No_," Anton exhaled exasperatedly, rolling his eyes, "_I _want to get my hands on her first."

_Ah. _

_So _that's _why he's in such a good mood._

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**12:****21**** am EDT**

Reese grabbed his phone out of the cup holder as he switched lanes, "Shouldn't you be sleeping, Harold?"

"_Mr. Reese,_" Finch let out distressfully, "_We have a bit of a problem._"

He eyed the silver Charger a few cars down, "Does it involve a certain crafty female breaking curfew?"

"_Mr. Reese?_"

Reese was pleased to hear the man sound sincerely confused. "Keene snuck out and got picked up – I heard her mention our friend from earlier," he provided, "I'm starting to wonder if we've got all our facts straight."

"_But how…?_"

"I got lucky," he offered, speeding up to make the light.

"_They must be going to see Anton,_" Finch cleared his throat, recovering his practical tone, "_I'll call Detective Carter – _"

" – don't do that," Reese interjected firmly, "I'll call you."

"_Mr. Reese – _"

He hung up.

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**12:32 am EDT**

The watch's voice crackled through the walkie-talkie, "_Sven's back._"

"Thanks," Josif spoke into the handheld before gesturing at the two standing near the warehouse doors. They nodded back, working off the latches and sliding the double doors open.

Anton eagerly strode forward to greet the Dodge, waving off the rest of the men who rapidly fell in with their hands on their hidden weapons.

Sven turned off the engine, quickly hopping out of the vehicle, "Sorry we're late, boss – "

" – you know how we females are," Victoria called out, gliding out of the backseat and slamming the door. She moved the blonde out of her way by placing a hand on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on Anton as she moved forward. "Looking a bit thin in the ranks, I see. Is it my fault?" she blinked innocently, the pervasive simper on her lips.

Josif had forgotten how Victoria could awe an audience with a simple smirk – though, judging from the murmurs around him, it wasn't her smile that had the men's attention.

"Of course _you _would be so relaxed," Anton rolled his eyes, closing the gap between them with another long stride. He lashed out with an unexpected, open palm –

…_or how she can rile Anton so much, _Josif winced, waiting for the loud slap.

– which Victoria instinctively grabbed with her hands, twisting the man's backwards.

"You never did see me as anything more than a two-bit whore," she commented pleasantly, a hard edge to her broad smile, as she cheerfully isolated a few of Anton's fingers with a slow twist of her slender wrist.

If Josif hadn't stepped in, he had no doubt that she would have broken those particular digits without a blink. "You don't want to do that, Victoria," he called out, leveling his glock at her.

She glanced up with a toss of her long hair, giving a slight pout, "Always so serious, Josif."

"Come on," he entreated with an easy shrug.

Victoria wrinkled her nose, turning back the man in her hands who shot her the most biting, irritable glare. "Fine," she said with a roll of her eyes, shoving Anton away and raising her hands.

Anton quickly righted himself, stepping in and swinging a closed fist. This time there was a dull thud as his fist made contact with Victoria's chin, knocking her off her stilettos. Josif winced as she hit the ground hard, her bare skin slapping into the cement.

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**12:38 am EDT**

"_Motherf – _" V hissed, shoving her arms beneath her to push herself up, as she violently blinked against the sharp throbs rocking her head. _He fucking _hit _me - ! _

She felt the fingers, wrapping into her hair, too late, and let out a small cry as her head was jerked backwards. _Fucking hell – I am _so _cutting my hair this time._ Then her eyes met Anton's bright blue ones and her lip curled as she noticed the wavering hardness of his gaze. _Bitch, _she gave a haggard chuckle as she raised a hand to wipe away the blood from her torn lip, "Not as satisfying as you thought it'd be, right?"

V _definitely_ did not expect what happened next.

Anton's lips spread into a genuine smile as he gave a short laugh, "Bitch."

She furrowed her brow in slight confusion and that's when the Russian clapped his lips over hers.

Her eyes froze in complete shock, _The _hell _- ?!_

It wasn't until V felt his tongue upon her cut that she broke free of her brief paralysis, shoving against the man and tearing her switchblade from its hiding space in her dress. She frantically scrabbled with her weapon as he pressed down harder, his grip tightening even more until she buried the knife into the back of his shoulder.

Anton tore away with a growl, just barely giving her enough time to twist her tool out of his body.

"The _fuck_," she snarled, spitting, "The _fuck_, Anton - !" She tightened her grip on the gory switchblade, getting to her feet angrily.

"Am I interrupting?"

The men all cocked their guns at the low, amused rumble, turning towards the party of men who had entered through the back of the warehouse.

"_Commander_," Anton sneered loudly, straightening up with a crack of his neck.

The heavyset, Black man greeted him with a smile that curled his very full lips and bared his perfect teeth, "_Anton_."

V turned to face the man, getting a good glance at the suited giant. She quickly noticed that his ebony eyes held no ounce of the jovialness that was heavy in his facial muscles. "_You're _the Commander?" she confirmed, waving the point of the implement at the man.

"Yes," he replied plainly as he quickly looked her over. "Pictures do you no justice, Ms. Keene."

_Finally. _

"Aw, shucks," she let out wryly, closing her switchblade and tucking it back into her dress, as she gave a cheery crinkle of her eyes, "I'm afraid I'm a bit filthy at the moment but thanks."

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**12:43 am EDT**

Reese gave another tug of his arm, assuredly rendering the man comatose before lowering him to the ground. He kept an eye on the gathering a few feet away, noticing that the Commander's three-man party brought the grand total to twelve men.

_A surprisingly low number._

_Then again_, he glanced down at the man at his feet and thought of the three thugs at the front entrance and the four at the back. He gave a shrug, scratching his nose, _Maybe a certain amount of credit is due – I _did _take out eight…_

Reese ignored the buzzing in his pocket as he went about collecting the unconscious man's gun and extra magazines tucked into his peeling belt. He glanced towards Keene, walking towards the Commander, as he moved from one tall pile of crates to another. His eyes narrowed at the unwavering scrutiny Keene was giving the middle-aged man – there was something about the certainty in her step and the conviction set into her shoulders that both worried and confused him.

It was more than self-assurance.

_What are you up to, Victoria Keene…?_

He gave a sigh as his phone went off again and snatched up the offensive object out of his pocket, "Not a good time, Finch."

"_It never is – is it?_" the man sniffed in a slightly put out tone.

"No need to worry about me," Reese whispered, ducking behind the crates as one of Anton's men turned, "I'm doing just great."

Finch ignored him, undoubtedly giving a roll of his eyes before briskly continuing, "_I found the chat between Keene and the Commander._"

"She said that it wasn't logged," Reese furrowed his brow.

"_The logs took a considerable amount of time to find but they _do_ exist,_" Finch retorted, "_It seems that Ms. Keene was lying about some things._"

Reese snorted, "Why does that _not _surprise me?"

"_In the chat, she claims to have files of some sort and says she knows who the Commander really is – something even I wasn't able to figure out. I think we were wrong about who was hunting who._"

"What kinds of files?"

"_It doesn't say,_" the mouse clicked rather audibly, "_I would assume that it is something of classified nature since she also mentions 'government ordained _murders_.__'_"

"Well," Reese thought of the tight, halter dress, "I don't think she has them hidden under her dress."

Federal agencies were rather fond of their paperwork and a knife was one thing, a collection of papers was another.

Finch hesitatingly commented, "_There is a chance that they're in digital form – she could easily hide a drive in her clothing._"

"_Really_?" Reese frowned as he peered around the crates and saw Keene pull a small object out of her cleavage.

"_Yes – rea – _"

" – no," he cut off his employer with a bemused sigh, "I mean_, 'really_ – she _brought_ it here?'"

"_Oh._"

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**12:47 am EDT**

V waved the little USB stick before tossing it the Commander's way. The tall man plucked it out of the air with a large hand, sliding out the plug with a rub of his fingers. "This is it?" the Commander raised a brow, waving the silver edge of the small drive.

She gave a curt nod, freeing an arm from her cross to wave her hand dismissively, "Feel free to check it."

The Commander held his gaze as he handed off the stick to the sharp-featured Cuban on his right, who conjured up a small netbook out of his voluminous pack jacket, and said, "I'm guessing that you have a plan of some sort."

"Yes," V replied shortly, sweeping her hair back, "You tell me what I want to know then I leave."

"And," the Commander glanced at the screen of the small laptop proffered by the Cuban before looking back at her, "What's stopping me from killing you?"

She waved a finger at the netbook, "It's digital – there are other copies plus the original papers squirreled away with a few of my contacts."

"If you die, I get exposed," the man filled in, grinning, "How original."

"_Effective_," she corrected with a beam of her own, giving a shrug, "Plus, who knows, you might find me useful in the future."

The Commander crossed his arms, gesticulating with a hand, "Or your contacts?"

"Or my contacts," V agreed, tilting her head to the side.

"Well," the man opened his arms in a wide shrug, taking a step forward, "What do you want to know?"

She glanced over a shoulder at Anton who had wandered back towards Josif and the rest of his men. He waved a brow, giving her a smirk from his perch on a container, which she responded to with a roll of her eyes. Turning back to the Commander, she arched a brow, "How about getting rid of your dogs first?"

"That sounds reasonable," he nodded, fixing his dark eyes on Anton, "I'll call you."

"You still _owe _me," Anton hissed, jumping to his feet and stomping towards the much taller man.

The mercenary posse at the Commander's side immediately slid out guns from concealed compartments in their dark clothing causing Anton's men to jump for their more obvious firearms. V eyed both parties from her spot in the middle as she took a step back out of the direct line of fire. Anton fixed her with an intense glare that she couldn't quite read. She turned towards the Commander with another raise of her brow, "Shall I leave you boys to figure things out?"

The Commander replied to Anton, his lip curling in a mechanically genial smile, "You had your chance. It's not my fault that you couldn't capture her fast enough."

The Russian was looking less and less pleased, "Five million and a few hours with the broad – _that _was the agreement!"

"And you have your money," the Commander shrugged, "I already told you that the few hours depended on when you got the girl – _it's not my fault that you couldn't capture her fast enough_."

Even V heard the unspoken warning directed at Anton in the Commander's repeated phrase.

"_Fine_," Anton spat, wildly pivoting to jab a finger in her direction, "I _will _see you again."

Still_ trying to save face…_ "Of course, my darling," V chuckled good-naturedly, blowing the man a kiss, and felt a certain amount of morbid glee when she saw the exasperated glance Josif shot her as he barked some cautious words in Russian towards Anton.

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**12:54 am EDT**

Reese frowned at the almost childish sparkle in Keene's face as she watched Anton get shooed off the premises.

The woman was being irritably reckless.

_But where is this confidence coming from…? _He watched Anton and his men hurry into their vehicles, boisterously revving their engines and skidding out of the warehouse. _There's something – _

Then he saw…

_The man stepped up onto the sidewalk, sweeping his hood off and blowing his hair out of his face. Keene waved her purse, playfully cocking her head, "Didn't realize that Josif took to hiring Americans."_

…her empty hands.

_Goddamnit, woman._

Then came the explosion.

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**12:57 am EDT**

_Sorry, Sven._

V rapidly slid forward as the Commander's and his mercenaries' attentions were diverted by the detonation of the C-4 she had hidden in her purse. Slipping out her knife, she slammed her heel into the back of the Commander's knee and jerked him into her embrace – his back firmly pressed into her chest – by wrapping an arm tightly around his neck and dragging him a few inches away from his men. His knees smarting from the collision with the ground, the Commander grunted as he flexed his long arms in an attempt to free himself of her. She merely dug her nails into his neck and held tighter. Snarling, he shoved backwards to get his feet out from under him but failed as she threw them both to the side to avoid the few shots two of his three men had managed to get off their pistols. She wasted no time in stabbing the blade into the Commander's shoulder in order to free her other hand. He let out a hoarse cry, immediately reaching an arm up to pull it out but freezing as he felt her deftly removing the gun stuck between his back and his belt.

"Don't even think about it," V hissed into the Commander's ear, smoothly freeing the safety and blindly firing twice in the direction of the mercenaries before pressing the burning metal against the man's temple.

She dragged them both up with a growling grunt, keeping a firm hold of the tall man who kept his knees bent to accommodate her constricting hold. She glanced towards the warehouse entrance before sidling towards the crates in the back, being careful to keep the Commander between her and his apprehensive men with their ready arms aimed in her direction.

"Come on, come on," she whispered anxiously, looking towards the front again. She felt the Commander's facial muscles constrict as he undoubtedly raised a brow. "You'd better watch your backs, guys," she yelled out. One of the three instinctively glanced over his shoulder as the other two kept their guns trained on her and her hostage. "Come on, come on," she muttered angrily towards the open doorway, raising her voice for one more plea, "Come on!"

Never one to disappoint, Anton stormed through the warehouse doors – guns blazing.

V immediately turned and ran as soon as she caught sight of the Russian party. Half-dragging, half-leading the Commander, she closed the distance between them and the crates. A few bursts of machine-gun fire were followed by the thudding of three bodies and she quickened the pace, expecting Anton to quickly follow.

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**1:02 am EDT**

Reese leapt into a jog, lashing out with his arm, as he fell into pace with Keene. He was greeted by a genuinely shocked flash of brown eyes as she offered him a glare over the Commander's body when he forcefully grabbed her hostage by the arm.

"Reese?!" she let out disbelievingly, "What the – !"

" – don't even bother," he interjected crossly, banging the back door open with his free hand and shoving the pair out. He slammed the door behind him, setting off his own explosives with a flip of his controller before jabbing a finger at Keene, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

The woman had completely let go of the Commander and righted herself, furiously furrowing her brow at the loud blasts within the warehouse, "Did you just blow them up?!"

"Oh please," Reese snapped back, snatching out his gun and training it on the Commander who tore out the knife in his shoulder, as he shot her a pointed scowl, "As if you didn't just blast poor Sven to hell."

The Commander eyed the both of them from his spot on the tarmac, plain confusion painted upon his stoic face.

"This isn't any of your business!" Keene exhaled sharply as she pointed her own weapon back at her prisoner, "Back off!"

Reese fixed her with the wildest of glares, "_Tell me what the hell is going on!_"

The answer came from an unlikely source.

"What does it _look_ like?" the Commander offered, clearing his throat. Reese snapped his gaze back to the man who pushed himself to his feet. The slightly taller man unbuttoned his jacket, directing his attention towards Keene, "You already knew everything."

Keene didn't reply, merely narrowing her eyes at the man.

The Commander let out an appreciative laugh, running a hand over his bald head, "You came here to kill me."

Reese quickly looked towards Keene who pursed her lips, continuing her unblinking glare. He noted the steady hold she had on the weapon she had stolen. "Keene," he let out carefully, "What are you doing?"

She didn't even glance his way, ignoring him, and instead addressed the Commander. "Of course, I knew everything," she spat, an incredulous laughter bubbling forth, "He made sure that I would."

"Damn Parker," the Commander snorted, "He always had his plans."

"He did," Keene gritted her teeth, her facial muscles twitching in irritation, "He did."

"Keene," Reese stepped towards her, keeping his arm aimed at the Commander.

The woman continued to ignore him. "He had his plans," she let out coldly, her gaze narrowing, "And you just couldn't have that."

"It was a matter of national security," the man responded evenly.

"It was a matter of _your _security," Keene hissed, "You just couldn't have enough."

Reese was starting to get even more irate with the cryptic nature of their conversation.

"_Victoria_," he called out calmly, stepping even closer to her with his free hand outstretched, "You don't want to do that."

"Yes, Victoria," the Commander said bitingly, snappily loosening his tie, "Listen to your friend."

Keene's lips were but a thin line, every muscle in her face now shaking with the growing tension in her body, and her eyes were fixedly pointed at the man standing a few feet in front of her. "Victoria – don't," Reese said firmly, warily placing a hand upon her wrist, "You'll regret it."

"She won't do it," the Commander sneered, smirking at her, "Will you?"

"Shut up," Reese growled, keeping his eyes on Keene. She stayed silent but relaxed her stance considerably, the force in her body seeming to leave her. He repeated his last words more gently, "You'll regret it."

She graced him with a look then and there was only a stark determination in her wide eyes. "No," she replied quietly, offering a small smile, as she pulled his hand off with her free hand, "I won't."

The smile faded and she turned back towards the Commander, unhesitatingly pulling the trigger three times: once in the chest, once in the neck, and once in the head.

Reese lowered his arms.


End file.
